


zoinks

by Mooifyourecows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Rated T for language, but i'm not as funny as fukunaga, i tried to make puns, so forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooifyourecows/pseuds/Mooifyourecows
Summary: How does one rationalize the sudden realization that Fukunaga Shouhei is... well... you know......cute?
Relationships: Fukunaga Shouhei/Yamamoto Taketora
Comments: 22
Kudos: 305
Collections: Work's I've Finished





	zoinks

“This might come as a surprise to you, Kenma…”

Kenma let out a soft groan as Tora sat next to him on the bus stop bench.

“But I don’t understand that Fukunaga,” he finished, spreading his legs out wide in front of him and draping his arms along the back of the bench.

Kenma flinched away from his touch, hair falling forward to frame his face and hide it from view as he ignored Tora’s presence and continued tapping away at his cell phone and the colorful mobile game lighting up the screen.

“He doesn’t talk enough,” Tora went on, eyes wandering down the street. “I don’t get it. I know he _can_.”

Kenma mumbled something and Tora leaned towards him.

“Eh? You say somethin’?”

Kenma let out a sigh and said again, a little louder this time, “Just because you’re a loudmouth doesn’t mean everyone has to be.”

“It doesn’t make any _sense_ ,” Tora said, ignoring Kenma’s blatant insult. He’d let it slide, this time, but only because they were in public and Fukunaga wasn’t currently around to put an end to their bickering should they get into one of their famous stand-offs.

He had the good sense to do that, at least.

You know, out of respect for the mysterious guy.

Even if he _was_ a weirdo.

“He almost never says a single word, and then when he _does_ , it’s some weird, random pun or rhyme or some shit.” Tora huffed. “What does it _mean_?”

Kenma muttered.

“Huh? Did’ya say somethin’ again?”

“Why are you talking to _me_ about it?” Kenma lowered his phone to his lap and turned a golden eye to Tora. “If you’re so curious, go ask Shouhei.”

“No way,” Tora scoffed. “He’d just give me that look.” He mimicked Fukunaga’s blank stare, eyes wide, brows lifted. He snorted and faced across the street. “I never know what’s goin’ on in that guy’s head…”

Other students wearing the Nekoma uniform milled about, heading home after the long day at school. He spotted a pair of girls flouncing by and his eyes immediately shot to the sky at the sight of their short skirts and pale thighs. His face grew hot and his palms turned clammy and he was totally lame.

Just what kind of man was he when the mere sight of girls made his usually steadfast willpower shrivel up into a dusty old husk inside him?

_Grow some balls, Tora!_

He swallowed and lowered his eyes once more.

His gaze fell immediately on a familiar face across the street.

Fukunaga stood, flanked by two girls, and stared in Tora’s direction, sucking on the straw of a box of strawberry milk. The hand not holding the milk was stuffed into his pants pocket and the strap of his bag cut across his chest, rumpling up his blazer and the sweater underneath. One of the girls reached out and tugged on his sleeve, but he didn’t pay her any heed, still steadily staring at Tora.

“And then there’s _that_ ,” he grumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the bench.

Kenma didn’t ask him what he meant but it was fine because Tora went ahead and told him anyway.

“He’s always surrounded by girls!” he said. “How? _How, Kenma?_ ”

“Don’t ask me,” he mumbled.

“It doesn’t make any sense!” He dropped his head back and stared at the sky, watching the early evening clouds roll slowly by. “I’ve been trying my whole life to talk to girls and I can’t do it. Just lookin’ at them makes me clam all up. I start sweating so bad, my clothes just get _drenched_ —”

“Gross.”

“I know! It’s super gross! And embarrassing!” He rubbed his eyes and then glanced in Fukunaga’s direction once more. He was looking down at one of the girls now as she talked excitedly and continued to tug on the sleeve of his blazer. “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “How does he do it? It’s not like he’s good looking, right?”

Kenma hummed.

“I mean…” Tora shrugged. “He’s got an okay body, I guess. He’s taller than me. Barely. But still.” He drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, dragging his gaze over Fukunaga in frustration. “His haircut is fuckin’ stupid though. His bangs are too damn short. And his eyebrows look like they’ve been burned off his face. But other than that… I dunno. Is he cute?”

Kenma remained silent.

Which was fine.

Tora went on ahead with his musings anyway.

“I guess kinda.” He scratched his cheek. “He’s got an okay face. Nothin’ special. It’s kinda cute when he gets that little smile and chuckles to himself over some dumb pun he thought up. I mean, I _guess_. And…” He watched as the other girl hooked her arm in the crook of Fukunaga’s elbow and led him down the sidewalk. “That thing he does. With his hands. That’s kinda cute too. The little paw thing.”

“Gee Tora,” Kenma said, voice low. “Who are you envious of? Shouhei? Or the girls?”

Tora blinked.

It took him a moment to understand what he was implying, and then the heat was back in his face and he let out an outraged,

_“HAAAAAAAAAH?”_

He spun towards Kenma, sitting up in a hurry.

“ _What are you suggestin’ huh?_ ”

Kenma gave him a dull look.

“I’m just saying you seem a little too concerned about whether or not Shouhei is cute. Trying to justify your feelings, maybe?”

“I—” Tora gulped hard and grabbed the front of Kenma’s blazer. “Hey, screw you man! You know I like girls!”

“In denial much? You can like both—”

“Screw you! You’re just pissed because your boyfriend is graduating and you’re taking it out on me!”

Kenma’s eyes flashed and his hands balled up in the front of Tora’s sweater. “He’s _not_ my boyfriend.”

“ _Now_ who’s in denial, huh?”

“ _You’re so annoying!”_

“ _You’re the annoying one! You lazy sack of—”_

The words died on his tongue as a sudden chin rested down on the locked elbow of his outstretched arm. Tora and Kenma both stared at Fukunaga as his wide eyes traveled between them curiously.

Tora’s mouth turned to sandpaper and heavy, furious heat flooded his face and chest.

_Oh no I’m gonna barf._

Fukunaga’s eyes landed on his face and his short eyebrows lifted slightly.

“What it do, Scooby-Doo?”

It felt like a stake had been driven through Tora’s chest.

“Ahh…” the sound passing his lips started off low, a little escape of breath. “Aaaaaahhhhhhhh…” it slowly grew in volume and strength.

Kenma and Fukunaga were both looking at him now, Kenma’s face twisted in irritated confusion while Fukunaga’s remained curious, the corner of his lips twitching infinitesimally.

The almost smile made his eyes squint, just barely.

It cut deep.

“Aaaaaaaaa-AAAAAAAAAHHHHH—” Tora released Kenma and shoved him away. He leapt to his feet and was nearly dragged right back down when his bag caught on the corner of the bench.

“What are you _doing_?” Kenma snapped, yanking his blazer out of its wrinkled state.

Tora struggled his bag free. “I gotta get the hell outta here!”

“What about the bus?”

“Fuck the bus!”

Tora’s eyes fell on Fukunaga again, whose head had cocked to the side, still watching him like a curious cat.

_Cu-cute…_

“NO!” Tora whirled and bolted up the sidewalk, pumping his arms ferociously. “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!”

He could hear Kenma call after him, an angry shout about getting his ass back there, but he tuned it out, aware only of the siren ringing in his head.

_WEE-WOO, WEE-WOO._

_YOU THOUGHT A GUY WAS CUTE._

He ran and ran until his lungs screamed and his legs threatened to give out and he was fairly sure he felt how Kenma felt thirty seconds into their volleyball warm-ups. When he finally stopped, he doubled over, hands braced against his knees, and panted towards the ground as beads of sweat dripped from his drenched face.

Just what the hell had come over him?

It was Kenma’s fault. He had planted the idea in his head and now he was freaking the hell out. There was no way that he could like boys. Tora liked girls. He was head over heels in love with girls. Girls were pretty. Girls were soft and ethereal and Tora had pined helplessly after nearly every girl to ever be nice to him since he was in primary school.

There was no way he could like a boy now, after all those years of dedication to girls.

He was just… confused.

Yeah.

Kenma had planted the thought into his head and he was just too stupid to recognize that it wasn’t his true feelings.

Yeah.

Because Tora liked girls and only girls. He definitely didn’t like boys, _any_ boys, but especially not one like Fukunaga Shouhei, who was weird and had bad hair and said strange things and laughed to himself at random moments during the day and whose smile was rare but soft and always reached his eyes and made Tora believe that it was sincere from the deepest recesses of his heart and _oh you gotta be shitting me._

_I think a boy is cute._

He let out a groan and dropped into a crouch, holding his head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he whispered, pressing his fingers into his eyelids.

Tora thought a boy was cute and nothing in the world made sense anymore.

_What do I do, Scooby-Doo?_

_Wee-woo._

_Wee-woo._

* * *

Fukunaga liked to look at people.

It was no secret. He didn’t hide it.

Couldn’t.

He liked to look at people and he did, more often than he looked at himself.

Kenma was fun to look at. He was closed off to most, surprisingly open to a few. Fukunaga found it interesting to watch him cower around strangers, nose and lips twisted in a sneer that was probably half disgust and half fear. He thought it was funny how he didn’t do the same around them, his team.

Kenma was _mean_ to _them_.

It was funny.

He was a different kind of mean than Yaku or Kuroo, for sure.

Their senpais’ meanness was aggressive and loud.

Kenma’s mean was slow and flat.

Funny.

Lev got the most of it.

And that was funny.

He was tall and obnoxious and Kenma resented just about every aspect of his existence, even if that resentment was so special, so privileged, so warm. A unique kind of resentment that only Kenma could foster.

Fukunaga thought it was funny.

He liked to look at people.

The people who were silent and subtle like Kenma. The people who were open and matter-of-fact, like Yaku and Kuroo. The people who were impossibly honey sweet like Shibayama and Kai. The loud and energetic people like Lev and Inuoka.

And then there was this person.

Yamamoto Taketora was probably Fukunaga’s favorite person to look at.

He was a hilarious mixture of open and closed off, except the closed off part of him was terrible at being closed off.

It was more like… _Closed Off: The Sequel_ that bombed at the box office.

Funny.

At the moment, he was in Nekoma’s weight room, doing biceps curls like no man had the right to do, confused aggression wafting off of him in waves.

He was just one curl away from eviscerating his collarbone, the dumbbells in his grip swinging too quickly, too hard, up towards his body.

“ _Tora!_ ”

The harsh voice cut through the room, drawing everybody’s attention to their captain where he stood with hands on his hips next to the water fountain, front of his black t-shirt damp and dark.

“ _Would you relax?_ ” he demanded, brows low. “I swear if you hurt yourself, I’m gonna sic Yakkun on your ass!”

“Why me?” Yaku called. He leaned a knee against Lev’s back, forcing him into a hard stretch and pushing a low whine from his mouth. “Sic yourself on his ass for a change, _Captain._ ”

“Yakkun back me up for once in your life.”

“No.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Tora returned the weights to their rack and mumbled a rough, “ _Ossu_.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue, eyes drifting over to where Kenma was lounging on his side on one of the padded bench presses, discreetly checking his phone.

“ _Kenma! Is that a cell phone I see?_ ”

“Ugh…”

Kuroo stomped off in his direction and Fukunaga turned his attention back to Tora, who was using the hem of his t-shirt to sop up the sweat from his face.

Something was bothering him.

Fukunaga had watched him enough over the past two years to know that this was exactly the sort of thing he did when he was trying hard not to think.

Fukunaga scratched his nose and popped up from the bench on which he had been resting between sets.

_Urge to tease… increasing…_

Tora abandoned the dumbbell rack and stomped over to one of the bench press benches, three down from where Kenma was getting scolded. He added weight to the bar with laughable concentration, piercing stare locked on what he was doing as more sweat trickled down his forehead.

He didn’t notice Fukunaga approaching, creeping along the weight room with hands up, wrists limp and fingers twitching.

He snuck around behind the bench as Tora lay back on it, taking a moment to stretch his arms out and back before reaching up and wrapping his hands around the bar.

Before he could lift it from the rack, Fukunaga leaned over him, gripping the bar in the space just outside Tora’s hands.

Tora’s eyes flew wide and he released a surprised squeak, already flushed face turning an even darker shade of red.

Funny.

He was like…

_Closed off…_

“The Squeakquel,” Fukunaga said out loud.

“ _Haaah?_ ” Tora’s brows furrowed and some of his shock faded. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Fukunaga let a small smile touch his lips.

Tora was funny when he was all riled up.

He yelled too much.

“ _Tora!_ ” Kuroo shouted. “ _Shuddup! You’re too loud!_ ”

Tora bared his teeth but did as he was told. He met Fukunaga’s eyes for a short second before looking away.

“Whadya want?” he mumbled.

“Spot,” Fukunaga said.

“I don’t need a spotter—”

“ _Tora!_ ” Kuroo bellowed. “I _know_ I didn’t just hear you say you don’t need a spotter! Idiot! What if you drop it?”

“Fuck,” Tora hissed. “ _Alright. I got it._ ”

Kuroo went back to watching Kenma struggle through a rep, arms quivering, face screwed up in effort.

“Damn it,” Tora grumbled. “He’s all over me today. What’s up his ass? Did he get in a fight with his boyfriend?”

Fukunaga cocked his head to the side.

“Yaku-san?”

Tora cocked an eyebrow. “ _Yaku-san?_ Isn’t Kuroo dating Kenma?”

Fukunaga gave a small shake of the head. “Likes Hinata.”

Tora gaped at him. “ _Huh? Seriously?_ ” His mouth flapped like a fish and Fukunaga imitated the motion.

_Glub, glub, glub._

“How did I not know that?” Tora asked.

_Yell too much._

“Do I live under a fuckin’ rock or something?”

Fukunaga contemplated telling him “Yes. Probably.” But decided against it.

It was funnier to watch him try to work through it on his own.

Tora made funny facial expressions. Especially when he was thinking hard.

Or trying hard not to think at all.

Fukunaga had never seen a brow get wrinklier than Tora’s when he was thinking too hard about not thinking at all.

“But if Kuroo-san is datin’ Yaku-san and Kenma’s got the hots for Karasuno’s shrimp… that means we got at least three gays in the team,” Tora muttered, trying to make sense of the new revelation.

Fukunaga folded his arms over the bar and leaned his chin on them, peering over the side at him.

Tora was silent for a few seconds.

Then his eyes focused on Fukunaga’s face above him.

“ _AAAHHH!_ ”

The sudden shout made Fukunaga draw back slightly, blinking.

“No, no, no.” Tora waved his hands and then pressed them over his vibrant face. “Nuh uh.”

_Glub. Glub. Glub._

Fukunaga crouched down and pressed the pad of his index finger to the thick wrinkles between his furrowed brows.

Tora’s fingers slowly peeled back and he stared up at Fukunaga with wide-eyed fear.

“No way,” he whispered. “I don’t believe it.”

Fukunaga’s lips twitched.

_Glub. Glub. Glub._

“You _Betta_ believe it.”

* * *

There was no way Tora liked a boy. Just… no way. Not in a million years. Someone like Tora was incapable of liking boys.

That’s all there was to it.

He was devoted, almost religiously, to girls.

Girls were pretty.

Girls were cute.

Girls smelled good.

Girls… terrified him.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t like them! Because he did! He liked them so much and that was why he had a hard time talking to them, and being close to them, and… thinking about them.

Tora was kinda, a little bit… a huge coward.

And it was because he liked girls that he was so scared of them.

Knowing this was what made the realization that he was suddenly having a hard time talking to and being around Fukunaga that much more shocking.

It _wasn’t_ because he liked him that he was so nervous in his presence all of a sudden. No. It was because… because of stupid Kenma!

Stupid Kenma who planted the stupid thought in his stupid head.

It was Kenma’s fault that every time Fukunaga was near, Tora’s hands got clammy and hot and his collar turned itchy and his stomach twisted and fluttered like it was filled with two dozen butterflies and none of them happy at all that they had been swallowed by a teen in the biggest crisis of his life.

Stupid Kenma!

Just what the heck was Tora supposed to do now? Every time he looked at the guy, he just wanted to run away screaming. Just what… what the heck was he supposed to _do_?

Tora wasn’t supposed to be such a wimp! It was fine when it was just girls. Girls didn’t really want much to do with him anyway so he didn’t have to think hard about how to deal with them getting too close. But Fukunaga… Fukunaga was Tora’s teammate! They saw each other all the time and they had to be near each other and, and, and god sometimes they even _touched_ and that was a BIG PROBLEM, MAN.

That was a big problem because Tora just… couldn’t get the stupid things Kenma said out of his head.

“Shouhei-kun!”

And then there was _that_.

Tora gazed up the hallway to where Fukunaga was surrounded by girls again- _again_.

_Why?_

_How?_

What did girls like about him? Why did they follow him around like that? Call him by his first name and lean against his arm?

If Tora thought Fukunaga was cute- and Tora wasn’t admitting _nothing_ \- then Tora was kind of hoping that he’d be… well… the _only_ one who felt that way. Because if only Tora could see his cuteness then that would mean that Fukunaga’s cuteness was something that belonged only to him.

It would be something precious and privileged and only Tora’s, this view, this feeling, this…

Like.

NOT that Tora LIKED him or anything.

But if he DID…

_AAAAaaahhh!_

So frustrating! Tora wanted to tear his mohawk out over the confusion.

If he was going to like a boy, why did it have to be one that was inexplicably… _popular?_

There was no way he stood a chance if the guy he liked was someone that everyone else, especially pretty and feminine girls, also liked.

How could Tora compete with them? The cute girls that crowded around him and offered him treats and fought for a chance to touch his arm and tug on his blazer and _ugh_ could they just _back off already?_

Tora paused over the sudden strong bite of irritation that hit him as he watched the girls all grapple for Fukunaga’s attention.

He… had never felt _that_ way before.

Was that… was Tora _jealous?_ Like truly, really _jealous_?

_Of Fukunaga?_

_Or the girls?_

Oh no.

_Wee-woo._

_Wee-woo._

_You’re getting in over your head, Bucko._

He just… needed to stop thinking about it. The problem was that he kept thinking about it. If he could just…

“Shouhei-kun so cute!”

Tora gulped and stared up the hall as one of the girls stepped back after slipping a cat ear headband onto Fukunaga’s head. The girls squealed and Tora felt his stomach drop straight down to the soles of his feet.

_Cute…_

Fukunaga looked up and his eyes turned Tora’s direction, meeting his gaze.

Tora’s face burst into flames and he held his breath, hands scrunching into fists at his side.

After a pause, Fukunaga lifted his hands and curled them forward, making paws. His mouth moved and Tora could practically hear the soft _nyah_ that passed his lips.

Tora’s heart gave a massive _THUD_ in his chest.

_NOOooooo!_

He turned on his heel and bolted up the hall in the direction of the stairs.

No, no, no, no!

He bolted down the steps, taking two at a time.

How could he let this happen?

* * *

“Alright. _Explain yourself, Bastard._ ”

Fukunaga looked up from his shoes, meeting Tora’s eyes where he stood over him, arms crossed over his chest. The rest of the chatter in the locker room died down following his harsh demand.

He looked so serious, so intense. Fukunaga had half a mind to tease him… no, actually, he had a full mind to tease him, but the others clearly couldn’t read the mood and they were quick to interject.

“Explain what?” Kuroo said, tossing his bag to the side and removing his blazer.

“Tora why are you causing problems already?” Yaku said from behind Kuroo, leaning around his lanky body to throw a disapproving scowl their direction.

Tora scoffed, “I ain’t causin’ problems! I just think it’s about time this guy explained himself to me— er, to _us_!”

“Explain _what_?” Kuroo repeated.

Tora glared down at Fukunaga again. “How the hell are you so popular with girls?”

Heh. Tora was so funny.

He was so loud and obvious and Fukunaga just wanted to tease him, constantly.

“You mean you don’t know, Tora?” Kai said as he passed, wearing a small smile on his lips.

“You mean you _do_?” Tora gaped at him, mouth falling open.

“It’s super obvious!” Lev called from across the room.

“ _Eh? Even Lev knows? What the hell?_ ”

Girls, girls, girls.

That was all Tora thought about, wasn’t it?

Girls and volleyball and the many ways to get ahead in life on pure willpower. He had a one-track mind but every once in a while the track would skip.

Like this.

_Skip, skip, skip._

“Explain! C’mon! Don’t leave me in the dark!”

“Aww, Tora, don’t be stupid. Use your head!” Kuroo walked up and leaned over at Fukunaga’s side, reaching over to squeeze his face in his giant hand, smooshing his cheeks forward. “Ain’t he _cute_?”

Tora’s eyes widened and his red face grew infinitely redder. Fukunaga could see the hopscotch going on in his head, derailing evermore from his one-track mind.

_Skip, skip._

“He ain’t cute!” Tora practically roared, stomping his feet. “ _He ain’t! You’re crazy! Goodbye!”_

Tora stormed off and everyone stared after him in shocked silence.

_Record scratch._

_So you’re probably wondering how I got here._

A tiny smile touched Fukunaga’s lips and he went back to tying the laces of his sneakers.

Tora was so funny.

The urge to tease him was… increasing.

“Alright that was weird,” Kuroo admitted. “Whatever.” He glanced down at Fukunaga. “Figure out what’s wrong with him, okay? Before the day is over.”

Fukunaga gave him a salute and Kuroo chuckled.

“Cute.”

Muscle training that day went as it pretty much always went. Kenma slacked off and Kuroo spent most of his time scolding him. Yaku and Kai huddled like mean girls off to the side to make snide- but smiling- comments behind their hands. Lev and Inuoka were loud and Shibayama was quiet.

And Tora was exactly how Tora was.

Way too into pumping iron and avoiding the use of a single one of his very, very few braincells.

Funny.

Fukunaga enjoyed his time watching him move from one exercise to the next, occasionally getting called out for going too hard or being too loud.

And then everyone was leaving and Tora wasn’t one of them. Fukunaga waited at the door, but Tora didn’t join him.

Instead, he put weight on the bar at the bench press, fierce gaze focused on the task.

Funny.

But also stupid.

Tora’s one-track mind sure did veer off the proper course sometimes.

But who decided what was proper anyway?

Fukunaga abandoned the doorway and crossed the room to stand at the head of the bench press. When Tora sat and lay back, he didn’t spook at Fukunaga’s presence, like Fukunaga was semi hoping for.

_Hmm_.

So he was expecting it then.

Still interesting. Still entertaining.

Tora wrapped his hands around the bar and lifted it up off of the rack. His face screwed up at the effort as he slowly dropped it down to his chest, touching his shirt before pushing it back into the air.

Up and down, up and down.

Seesaw.

The reps went easy, smooth. The impressive weight didn’t seem to concern him in the least.

_He see-d._

_He saw-d._

_He conquered._

Heh.

At the end of his set, Tora racked the bar again and released a deep breath. His eyes flicked into Fukunaga’s face and then quickly away, deep wrinkles forming between his eyebrows and over the bridge of his nose.

Bench _press_.

Press... press... pressed.

_Pfft._

Fukunaga leaned over the bar.

“Why so pressed?”

The wrinkles got even deeper and Tora slapped his hands over them with a groan.

“God you’re so _weird._ Why do I—”

He froze, hands sliding away from his red face. His eyes darted into Fukunaga’s again and then away- again. He cleared his throat and straightened his head on the bench, lifting his chin slightly.

His eyes slid shut.

For a moment, Fukunaga merely stared down at him.

It kinda looked like he was…

_Pfffft._

Funny.

Tora was definitely the funniest.

Fukunaga crouched down and leaned over Tora’s head, accepting the silent, and maybe a bit reluctant, invitation to kiss him.

It was a little bit awkward, kissing upside down. Their lips didn’t slot together perfectly or even the least bit gracefully. But they were warm. And soft. And Tora’s trembled a little bit, like he didn’t quite know what to do with them.

That wasn’t a surprise though.

Hilarious, but not a surprise.

What _was_ a surprise was the feeling of Tora’s hands. One curled over the back of Fukunaga’s neck and the other pressed gentle against his head, pulling him just that tiny bit closer.

Fukunaga didn’t think that Tora had the guts to actually deepen their random and unexpected- albeit overdue in Fukunaga’s silent opinion- kiss.

Then again, if Tora had anything, it was guts.

_Bench press… pressed lips…_

There was something there.

If Fukunaga could just work it out, by the time the kiss ended he’d have a hilarious line to deliver and Tora would groan and it would be hilarious.

_So entertaining._

But the kiss ended sooner than expected and Tora pulled Fukunaga’s head up enough for their eyes to meet.

He looked two seconds away from blowing steam from his ears like an overheated cartoon and his eyes might as well be swirling with hazy spirals.

“I- I…” he stammered, voice rough. “I like you… Sc-Scooby doo…”

…

It wasn’t funny.

And yet somehow…

“That is the single most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Fukunaga said simply.

Tora released him and slapped his hands over his face with a loud groan.

“Shut up!” He whimpered and kicked his legs up and down against the floor. “If you’re gonna reject me then just reject me! I can’t stand it! You fuckin’ weirdo!”

Fukunaga wanted to think of a pun or a joke or something funny to say but the moment had passed. Now it wouldn’t work. Not since Tora had had the guts to say something as embarrassing as that.

So instead, he wrapped his fingers around Tora’s wrists and pulled his hands from his face. He leaned over and kissed him again and it was nice. And it was warm and it was soft.

And he figured it was a good enough answer to Tora’s clumsy and stupid confession.

_I like you too, Scooby Doo._

Oh.

Actually.

There was one thing he wanted to say.

Fukunaga broke off the kiss and sat back to stare into Tora’s hazy eyes.

“Zoinks.”

The heady, pleasant expression disappeared from Tora’s face and he released a shout.

_“Ahhh you’re not cute at all!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> One day I just got the urge to write ToraFuku  
> Now I have written ToraFuku  
> Good night
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr.](https://mooifyourecows.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/mooifyourecows)


End file.
